


Won't Ever

by MarieTamagotchi



Category: Epic NPC Man (Web Series)
Genre: Epic NPC Man - Freeform, F/M, Falling too hard for an NPC - Soulmate, VLDL, Viva La Dirt League
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieTamagotchi/pseuds/MarieTamagotchi
Summary: Finally, Rithal doesn't forget...A continuation of Soulmate, an episode of Viva La Dirt League's Epic NPC Man series on Youtube, combined with other concepts drawn from the Epic NPC Man world.
Relationships: Rithal/UnknownPlayer
Comments: 11
Kudos: 25





	Won't Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Epic NPC Man, or any other material of Viva La Dirt League's, and have not, do not and will not profit from this work. There are multiple sections where dialogue has been lifted entirely from the original - I hope they will not mind me borrowing their words.  
> If any reader feels inclined to be generous as a result of this work, please head to Viva La Dirt League's Patreon, or many of the other ways you can support them in doing what they do.  
> https://www.patreon.com/vldl

Won’t Ever

* * *

\||/

* * *

_Okay, I think we’re out of the Shadow’s reach! We should be safe here. I can’t believe that we made it!_

_I know, that was insane, right?!_

_… Look, I just want you to know that the last few days with you have been really special to me._

_They’ve been really special to me as well._

_And in spite of all of the odds stacked against us, we survived because… we had each other…_ _I don’t think I would have made it without you._

_I couldn’t have made it without you either, Rithal._

_I mean, we fought side-by-side against the armies of Grithol!_

_We stood together as the Dark Beasts descended upon us!_

_And we… we held each other for warmth, as the Dead Frost froze the entire world around us._

_We did…_

_And in spite of all of the horrific things that we’ve seen… I would do it all again… with you._ _I will never forget you…_

_Nor I you…_

_QUEST COMPLETE!_

_Wow… so… do you wanna… I don’t know - go on more adventures together?_

_I will never forget you._

_Because I mean, this is gonna sound crazy, but I couldn’t imagine doing any of this without you now!_

_I will never forget you._

_… Rithal?_

_I will never forget you._

_Rithal, you… you’re scaring me…_

_I will never forget you._

_… Ritha-_

_I will never forget you._

_Repeat Quest?_

_Yes No_

_Hero, I have a harrowing journey ahead of me that -_

_Accept!_

* * *

\||/

* * *

_Look, I just want you to know…_

_Skip._

_And in spite of all…_

_Skip._

_I mean, we fought…_

_Skip._

_I will never forget you…_

* * *

\||/

* * *

"I will never -"

"Skiiip!"

Rithal stepped back, and started to forget.

The hero before her, free of the restrictions of the quest completed, considered his options.

Impulse got the better of him.

TheDarkFart drew his sword, and Rithal grimaced as it sliced into her abdomen, subtracting the last of the HP that had yet to restore to default. Her body crumpled to the floor, and the adventurer scampered off down the path.

**Take note:**   
**Were it not for the Random Chest, the deviation that follows would not have occurred, as the chest was just within the proximity ring -**

" _Have you ever kept that promise, Rithal?"_

A shadow crossed over the dead warrior’s face, blocking the light glancing between the trees. Beyond the trees, TheDarkFart hooted triumphantly at his discovery of the Skull of Rauhl.

" _I wonder… What would happen if you really didn’t forget?"_ The deep voice echoed through the gaps between worlds. " _Would you still wait for some puny hero to come, to accompany you across this putrid wasteland of a realm, to pathetically loop round back to this shit-hole path, and forget your promise as soon as you have uttered it?"_

_\- this is gonna sound crazy -_

" _Will you continue on respawning, chopping wood, fishing, mugging people, sobbing like a moron…"_

His pockets on the cusp of being overburdened, TheDarkFart ran off, and bounced off a tree.

" _… Would you do it all again anyway…_ "

As TheDarkFart finally got a handle of his controller, a light fizzled over the path.

" _… or would you do something more interesting?"_

Pop!

Rithal bounced back upon her feet, restored.

_Aler-!_

Her hand twitched towards her sword, but the threat was gone in a split second. Must have been the wind.

Above her head, the quest mark lost a pixel.

* * *

\||/

* * *

_"… Hero…?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"No matters what happens, I’ve got your back, alright?"_

_"… Yeah… Yeah, you too. I won’t let you down, Rithal."_

_The First Army of Grithol charged towards them._

* * *

\||/

* * *

**The record for the shortest journey was twenty-one seconds. xxPussySlayerxx made the mistake of starting the quest in the middle of a fight.**

**The record for the longest journey was yet to be determined due to a glitch.**

**The record for least interaction was Interloper, who skipped everything.**

**The record for the shortest time for a player to kill her mid-quest was five seconds. Amaze had been aiming for the Kill All The Maids In Honeywood Achievement.**

* * *

\||/

* * *

"Hero, I have a harrowing -"

"Skip, accept, let’s get on with it."

* * *

\||/

* * *

_"Rithal! I’m - shit, I - my health’s really low! Can you cover me? I just need to take a potion, hang on…"_

_"Hero, quickly!"_

_"… God-damn empty vials…"_

_"Behind you!"_

_She’d never thrown her knife so true._

* * *

\||/

* * *

There was something wrong.

"Fucking glitch -"

Rithal kept seeing things. More heroes kept flickering before her eyes, like deja vu. Their voices echoed in her ears, and then they were gone, leaving only the Hero, who saw and heard none of it.

They had long left Honeywood, had crept through the shadows of Darkwood, passed through the Gerdawn Plaines. Their enemies had fallen to their blades, and in spite of all of the odds stacked against them… the Hero was still alive.

"Why are you stuck -?!"

The latest ambush upon them had failed, and the corpses of the bandits littered the ground. But Rithal was certain - absolutely certain - that someone was still prowling around.

Not just some _one_ , _many_. Just flickering everywhere, like they had existed once but not again.

"There are no more enemies around, you can come out of Caution Mode now, fucking useless thing -"

_… Rithal?_

"Look, they’re all dead, I’ll even - there, see, they’re all even _limbless_ now, so can we just get on with -"

There was something wrong.

 _The Hero_ was wrong.

* * *

\||/

* * *

_"Rithal?"_

_He struggled to catch his breath back. There were corpses littered everywhere on the battlefield, and he couldn’t see the metal for the blood on his sword._

_Rithal was… how could she still look so glorious? Sunk to her knees in exhaustion; a sweaty, wrecked mess. She looked up at him, looking like she was truly hoping that she could trust her eyes._

_That they really had survived._

_"You alright?" He asked._

_She didn’t respond for a moment, as though she had not been programmed to answer such a question. Then she smiled -_ it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair _\- and nodded._ _She reached out to him, and he heaved her back up to her feet._

_"Come, Hero, we must not dally here…"_

* * *

\||/

* * *

**There was a barbarian who had no concept of personal space. He killed her too when the quest was complete.**

**There was xXdragonslayerXx who got distracted from the battle by a bumble bee.**

**There was VinerzZ who starved.**

**There was ThisCouldBeSparta, of whom the less is said the better. He automatically failed the quest by logging out halfway through the frost, after a voice asked what he was doing in there.**

**There was Snuggles. They’d danced across the mountains together. He had given good hugs.**

* * *

\||/

* * *

"HOLY SHIT, THAT’S A BIG ARMY!"

"Hero, have courage, just -!"

* * *

\||/

* * *

"Mate, up for a bit of Skycraft?"

Not really.

"Hmm. Haven’t played that in ages."

"You played the updates?"

"Updates?"

"Yeah, they’ve got a bunch more NPCs, map expansion, fixed some bugs. Remember that time I got stuck in that shopkeeper’s stomach?"

Not really.

"Oh yeah, that was weird. Look, I can’t, I’ve got work tomorrow and -"

Like that excuse ever worked. It took less than five minutes for his avatar to pop into existence on the edge of Honeywood. At least he didn’t need to worry about gathering up loot and armour; it was all still saved.

Nothing had changed. He really hoped he was wrong about that. Even the fisherman was still there.

"Mornin’! Nice day for fishing, ain’t it? Huh-ha!"

* * *

\||/

* * *

"Jesus CHRIST, what the _fuck_ is that?!"

"Hero, have courage, just hold your ground! We must not let the Dark Beasts -"

"Hang on, pause, I gotta go take a shit, b r b."

* * *

\||/

* * *

**There was a time when Rithal was deaf for the journey.**

**There was a time when the floor was made up of a man’s face.**

**There were times when it snowed in Honeywood, and she was gifted a red hat to wear.**

**There was a time when the journey took over a year to complete as the hero Dethridge completed other quests.**

**There was a time when it took a week to leave Honeywood because the hero refused to leave without purchasing the Sword of Argon, and couldn’t barter a better price from Bodger the Blacksmith. It took a while to find that hammer, to kill all the rats, to pick the flowers.**

* * *

\||/

* * *

This game really wasn’t what it once was.

There was a man who kept respawning in the cemetery, would burst instantly into flame, die in agony, respawn, and repeat.

One of the muggers seemed to have forgotten most of his dialogue, save for a single line: “less talk, more give.”

Meanwhile, the other one had threatened to ‘back him’ (was that some kind of euphemism?) and then gave him over 400,000 pieces of gold. How the muggers had so much money he didn’t know, given that his mate said he’d seen a goose pick their pockets the other day.

He’d found Eugene in the woods, burning, seemingly unaffected, still seeking assistance to get to the cemetery. He found the widower walked a lot quicker when he was on fire. But when he finally - _finally_ \- made it to his wife and child’s unmarked graves, he started screeching for help, that he was terrified, and then kept asking over and over to the gravestones why they were being so mean to him.

And apparently it was perfectly possible to stuff an entire horse into one’s pocket.

But perhaps one of the stranger phenomena that he encountered was this:

"This tree ain’t gonna cut itself…"

This used to be a very simple quest; an easy few minutes of finding specific trees in the wood with an axe in your inventory. Hit action and go collect some easy coins. It was even instantly repeatable, as the Woodcutter never remembered that he had given you three gold only a few seconds ago. It was painfully tedious, but useful if you were short on coin for potions from the shop.

Now though, it was impossible to start any dialogue, let alone a quick mission. What was already a broken record - _"whew! I need a breather! Well, back to it, this tree ain’t gonna chop itself down, huha!"_ \- was broken even further.

"This tree ain’t gonna cut itself…"

Chop, chop, chop, he heard. Yet the Woodcutter didn’t move; he merely stared at the tree in question, which was as unmarked as ever, and the sound effects of the axe cutting into the wood triggered anyway. There would then be an awkward silence, before -

"This tree ain’t gonna cut itself…"

Gone was the Woodcutter’s joviality. He looked like he’d seen something horrific, as though the tree were a ghost. His voice was heavy with doubt, even grief. Perhaps that actually was the only way that the tree would come down; by cutting itself.

He didn’t think NPCs were meant to be aware of the futility of their loops.

"Are… are you alright?"

If he remembered right, the actual dialogue opener was _how goes chopping the trees, sir?_ Badly, really badly, evidently.

"Migh-"

The Woodcutter suddenly turned. He recoiled. The grief was so palpable…

Chop, chop, chop.

The Woodcutter flailed, as though fighting against invisible chains. He wondered if this labourer had ever moved from this spot, if he even could. What would happen if he took even one step away from the tree?

"- thank you for asking."

He blinked. He hadn’t expected the Woodcutter to answer so politely. The energy was gone from the line.

"That’s okay… umm… can I help?"

He did have an axe after all. He was just short of what he needed for Bodger’s armour upgrades; every little helps.

The Woodcutter stared at him desperately. Chop, chop, chop. Then -

"I need a breather!"

… How true.

"Okay, well, do you want me to take over from the chopping? I could -"

"You see."

See what…?

The Woodcutter shimmered suddenly, and grunted as though it pained him. "You see—you see—you see—well, back to—you see—you see—well, like I say—ah—ah—ah - you see?"

Oh Jesus… it was worse than he’d thought.

"See what, mate?"

The Woodcutter shimmered again.

He looked up; there were cracks all over the amber quest mark over the Woodcutter’s head, dusting pixels into nothingness.

Chop, chop, chop.

"My family—my-my-my wife and—need the wood to—child-child—w-w-warm in these cold winter nights—to keep us warm in these cold winter nights—to keep us warm in these cold winter nights—in these cold winter nights."

_And we… we held each other for warmth, as the Dead Frost froze the entire world around us._

"M-m-most p-people c-c-call me the—my name is—call me—I don’t—my name is—I don’t remember."

He couldn’t move. His fingers couldn’t press the keys, his hand was shaking on the mouse.

Chop, chop, chop.

"I don’t remember—remember—I-I-I don’t-don’t remem—don’t remember-ber—my h-h-home is ah—my home is just up the—based-based-based—my family—been chopping this particular tree—need the firewood—need the—the last time I took wood home was—most people just call—mighty fine—ain’t gonna—for as l-l-long a-a-as I can—h-home—can remember—you see—you see—you see—don’t remember—don’t remember—I don’t remember—I don’t—"

_I will never forget you._

> "OH FUCK IT."

He started, his hand seizing the mouse and he whipped around. There was no one else there. Who the hell was -!

> "Woodcutter’s shat his pants again. Major fucking shart, fuck’s sake. Guuuuuuurgh pain in the arse, alright."

He spun around again. Was that... the admins...?

> "Ah shit, a player’s right there. Of cooooourse. Fuck it, too late now, let’s just reboot it and get outta here, wanna go to the pub."

Pop.

He turned again, and stared in bewilderment at the empty clearing. The Woodcutter had dropped his axe on the floor, and was gone. Finally, there was silence.

> "There we go, all done, aaaaaand… restart!"

There was the click of a key being pressed with satisfaction. Pop.

The Woodcutter stood proudly, his axe swung over his shoulder, his exclamation mark restored.

He stared at him, waiting.

"Well, back to it, these trees ain’t gonna chop themselves down, huha!"

Chop, chop, chop.

The first axe was still there on the ground.

* * *

\||/

* * *

"This fucking glitch had better fucking wrinkle out when we _finally_ get to the fucking cave…"

Rithal was starting to see it now, what was wrong.

The Hero was too short, much too short. He didn’t have enough hair. His eyes were the wrong colour.

_Wow… so… do you wanna… I don’t know -_

They had gone through so much together - the armies were slain, and they were as far away from their beginnings as they could go without venturing into the complete unknown. She had saved his life so many times. He had saved her life so… no. None, no times; he had never saved her life.

She couldn’t remember a life before him -

_They’ve been really special to me as well._

His voice was wrong too. This Hero was too high-pitched, too highly-strung. She knew, without touching him, that his cheek would not be coarse and warm on her palm.

_I couldn’t have made it without you either, Rithal._

"Sooooooooooo…"

From the cave’s mouth, Rithal could see the Dead Frost coming in. They would be just on the fringe of it, but tonight they could go no further; shelter was their only recourse.

"What are the options, how do you get her to -"

Rithal turned away, and moved deeper into the cave. A fire pit was prepared; it just needed any of the matches that could have been looted from the victims of the Dark Beasts, or in the chest in the desert, or from Greg’s shop, or - at a pinch - from the chest at the mouth of the cave.

… How did she know that…?

She had been to the cave before… she was pretty certain of it. It looked so familiar, and yet she knew she had never been there. It was on the tip of her tongue to say so, but she’d been caught off guard so many times that she had not said much since they had left Honeywood, keeping the dial- conversation to a minimum. Their path had never borne her footprints before. But she knew about that chest at the cave entrance, she knew about the matches.

It was so cold.

She could have lit the fire herself, if the Hero asked her and gave her matches. But the matches were still in the chest, and the Hero had left all the others behind. All dozen chances… including the ones a dozen paces away…

"Let's go with this one: are you cold?"

_"I can heat you up, guuurl -"_

_"You can sit right by me -"_

_Here, take my cloak._

* * *

\||/

* * *

_"Are you cold?"_

_He couldn’t have known this the first time, but there was always only one outcome to this dialogue. All options came to the same conclusion. He had a choice between the lewd, vulvar and degrading lines that had never worked on any self-respecting woman ever, or asking the blunt and obvious._

_The Dark Frost was encroaching into the cave. Or at least, it was meant to be; it wouldn’t until the player chose their actions. Play was suspended until he decided. But regardless, Rithal was shivering next to him._

_He crouched down next to her, opened her inventory, and pulled up his own. He dragged his cloak out of his inventory, and deposited it in hers. They both bounced gently as the weight of the cloak transferred to Rithal’s shoulders, and she looked at him, stunned into speechlessness._

_"Here, take my cloak."_

_She said nothing. Then she just smiled. "Thank you, Hero."_

_How did the designers get her smile so perfect? He shook his head at himself, to rattle such thoughts away -_ it’s just a game - _and scrolled past the ‘we should share our body heat for the night’._

What a terrible line.

_"I’ll light a fire."_

_"Good idea, Hero. Do you have matches?"_

_Yes he did, in exchange for a puny amount of copper to Greg the garlic farmer back in Honeywood. This far into the game, he might have had to pay a lot for such a coveted item, although as it turned out, he didn’t even need to pay the copper; there was a chest just outside, with a blanket too. Just one; he wished he had thought to find and bring another with him. Though the one he had seemed big enough for two…_

_He shuffled forward to the prepared fire pit in the dead centre of the cave, and voila._

_-1 weight_

_The fire immediately roared into full life, triggering the short cutscene of the icicles halting at the cave’s entrance and retreating from the heat._

_"Excellent, Hero!"_

_Rithal beamed at him proudly. The cold was evidently forgotten in her moment of congratulations to him. Then dialogue resumed._

_"I fear the fire will not last the night… that neither will we…"_

_She continued shivering in his cloak._

_He had one last option… no way to avoid it, it seemed. He couldn’t even cut his dialogue now. But it was asking too much, surely. It was Rithal… he shouldn’t…_

_"We… ugh."_

_This was such a bad idea. If he got slapped in the face he would take it; he would deserve the hit points lost. "We could share our, umm, our body heat…"_

_Jesus._

_"I don’t think we have much choice, Hero."_

_Damn right. Wait… He looked across at her._ _Really… how did the designers make her smile so gentle, so soft, so… loving…_

_The cutscene played automatically. The only blanket was shaken out from his inventory, and the two tucked up together in the corner of the cave. Rithal fitted perfectly against him, warm and beautiful and everything he needed._

_In another world, a man stared at his avatar, and worried about how jealous he was of himself._

* * *

\||/

* * *

"Wait… what the _fuck_ are you doing?!"

What was she doing…? What was the Hero doing…? Why was he shouting at her…? Why…

The fire was still unlit. The Dead Frost’s icicles trapped them in, but did not encroach; it was missing triggering options. The Hero was cowering in the corner - not the corner where she had awoken in her hero’s arms - wait… he wasn’t here, she hadn’t woken, she -

She had her sword in her hand, ready for combat.

"-‘t come any closer, you crazy bitch!"

There was an enemy in the cave, her senses screamed at her. She had been threatened, she had to eliminate the threat… where…?

_Rithal, you… you’re scaring me…_

No… no, that didn’t make sense, that wasn’t… he didn’t say that then, he said that… at the end, he…

_"What would happen if you really didn’t forget?"_

She saw all of them, all the heroes that she had ever travelled to this cave with, escaping the Dead Frost. Some of them brought matches, some raced around the cave searching for them, some used spells to light the fire instead. She saw that blanket cover two bodies together, and remembered nothing of how it had felt every time. It hadn’t been important to feel anything herself, so there was nothing to remember. Thank the Ninth Day…

Only one had robbed her pockets to give her their cloak.

She saw every step she had taken so, _so_ many times to get there, and all the steps she had taken after. From here were all manner of monsters to prevent their way home.

… How long had it been since she had come here with her Hero?

_I will never forget you._

But she had… just as she had forgotten all those before him and after. She had forgotten all the times she had surged to action to save him, all the times he’d thrown himself into harm’s way to save her. She remembered fighting back-to-back against the armies of Grithol, she remembered shouting over the screeches of the Dark Beasts to work together to bring them down.

He had felt warm in the night as they slept.

Twice.

He’d come back for her… oh Gods. And she had forgotten him all over again…

"- Look, I just wanted to do the spooning scene, okay?! Is that so much to ask?!"

Rithal didn’t know the answer to that question. But she had no interest in what this man wanted.

Some had been kind. Some… some had not.

She sheathed her sword, but said nothing to appease the adventurer. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say?

"D-Don’t come any closer." Standard line for an enemy approaching, though now was not the right moment to use it.

"Fine…" The man muttered under his breath. She didn’t care to listen, focusing on the dilemma before her. To light the fire, she needed the matches. Matches were in the chest, every time. Could she pick them up?

Well, she had carried the junk of plenty of heroes before like a pack horse; a match shouldn’t be a problem.

As she picked up the matches, Rithal didn’t hear the crack in the exclamation mark.

* * *

\||/

* * *

_"Rithal, here! Healing potion, take it!"_

_"Thank you, Hero! Go for the legs, it’s vulnerable there!"_

_"Okay!"_

_"When it stumbles, go for the heads!"_

_"Sounds like a plan! Rithal?"_

_"Yes, Hero?"_

Please don’t die on me now. Not after all this. I don’t care how many times I have to Quick-Load, how many times I have to die… we both walk away from this.

Again.

_"I’m right here, at your side. Not going anywhere."_

_"I know, Hero. We’ll get through it together."_

_He lost count._

* * *

\||/

* * *

The sorcerer watched from afar.

He had yet to cast judgement on whether this last had brought a return on his efforts. The great Rithal, a legend amongst the NPCs for requiring record high levels to gain access to, was proving to be… hmm.

Unexpected.

Maybe the spell hadn’t quite worked? Impossible.

Enlightenment had come unexpectedly for Baradun, and from a source that he was not proud of. Damn Halloween update. How had he never noticed before that there was far more to the garlic farmer than met the eye?

Unfortunately for the populous of Honeywood and beyond, Greg’s good nature had not copied across as well. But the sorcerer appreciated the challenge. He would never be bored again.

Some tinkering had amused. He’d displaced Eugene once in the wood, and the ensuing slippery slope without an end had kept Baradun giggling for a while. Indeed it would always put a proud smirk on his face whenever he heard ‘less talk more give’.

But then someone had come along and killed the lot of them; very anticlimactic.

There’d been the respawning man in the graveyard. That had been a good giggle, until Greg ruined his fun.

There’d been some misses… that Woodcutter should have been easy to rope in. But Baradun didn’t have the patience to return and continue unpicking the loose strands of the NPC’s existence.

It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. The Woodcutter had never left that spot, had never left that tree. His wife and daughter had never existed, so it wasn’t possible to remember them. His love for his family was theoretical only; he would never be able to step away from that tree in pursuit of what didn’t exist.

The advanced level quest-giver though… showed potential. Her interactions were predominantly with the adventurers, and it was her fate to fall in love with all of them, one after the other. They could have done despicable things to her - some had - and still she would return to her spot on the path telling them how much it had all meant to her.

Forgetting might have been blissful, if she’d realised it was happening.

What path would she choose to follow when she too realised the truth of it all? Would she choose to be moral still, and go off fighting monsters for reasons never explained, or would she realise the futility of it? What did it matter, any of it?

Might as well have some fun with it. What else was there to do?

* * *

\||/

* * *

"Ah, herwo, wot brings yoo t’ see Bo’jer t’ Bla—argh!"

That wasn’t Bodger the Blacksmith’s usual reaction.

Rithal was tired. The journey had been long, tedious, and uninspiring. She didn’t care anymore, about anything. What was there to care about? She didn’t think that she’d ever truly cared at all. She’d said her lines, and worn a stage of emotions on her face, but none of it meant anything.

They were just words, said so, so, so many times before.

"No, go away, not in the mood -"

The adventurer didn’t sound like he cared any more either as they continued on. Bodger stared in unfiltered horror at something, and then shouted across the pond.

"Hey… hey Greg! Greg… GREG, YA USELES’ BASTA’D!"

"Ehhh what now, Bodger?"

"Check’t out!"

"I’m not falling for it, Bodg— ahh, hello Adventurer, and… _oh_."

"Shop, skip, shut up, just give me health potions -"

Rithal waited by the adventurer’s side. Ordinarily she had lines to deliver here that opened up a speech check for the extra delivery that had just come in, but it had been skipped. Never mind.

It was nearly finished. The end wasn’t far now. Once they got to the edge of Honeywood it would trigger the Shadow’s revenge, its last grab for victory from the clutches of death, but for now…

"Mornin’! Nice day for fishing, ain’t it? Huh-ha!"

"I’m afraid you don’t have enough gold -"

"TWO FER THE—err— TWO FER THE PRICE O’ ONE—hang on, GREG! SHE A’RIGH’?"

"Just leave it, Bodger!"

"NO-NO-NO, se’iously, ya see tha’ too, righ’?!"

"I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF A SALE, BODGER, I CAN’T—"

"Right, we’re done here! Skip skip skip, let’s go, fucking extortionate…"

The adventurer didn’t even know Rithal wasn’t following yet. She was in no hurry to go.

Honeywood really was a pretty place. The kind of place people would wish to settle down in, grow old in, find peace in. Not the worst place to never be able to leave, perhaps…

By the lake, Baelin lifted and lowered his fishing rod. "Mornin’! Nice day for fishing, ain’t it? Huh-ha!"

… Was this… envy?

"Rithal?"

_… Rithal?_

She turned, hope lighting in her chest, but it was only Greg. He gave an awkward wave and called out to her. "You okay?" He glanced up at something above her head, and pulled a frightened face.

Rithal had spoken to Greg many times, she realised. She’d always thought that she barely encountered him, but that wasn’t true at all. It had always been the same; he would take one kind look at her, judge her and her company to be worthy of his trust, and reward them accordingly. Looking back… had he known at the time that so, so many of those she brought to him, to purchase supplies to restock after the journey, truly didn’t deserve his offerings? She had brought literal thieves to his shop, and yet here he was, ever steadfast, still judging her to be worthy of concern.

Did he know…? Did he remember all of it too? Had he always remembered, but done it all anyway? Had he chosen that, or was he just as stuck here as she was, always returning to their shackles?

Was that why he never wore shoes, for he did not need them…?

Did… did he know what this place was? Did he know why they did what they did? Could… could he tell her?

(Yes, he knew. He could barely stop glancing at what was left of the quest mark above her head.)

She had to ask. Rithal stepped forward to speak -

"..."

She had no words. Another chunk of pixels crumbled off. Unaware, she was still plunged into panic, her hand reaching for her sword instinctively to protect herself -

"Hey, hey, it’s okay!" Greg said gently, edging forward to offer some comfort. "It… it’ll be okay."

The alert downgraded - Greg was inherently trustworthy - and her sword remained sheathed. Rithal tried again to find the words to seek the answers she needed. There had to be a way…

_We survived because… we had each other… I don’t think I would have made it without you._

Words… words were just words, all told. Maybe, maybe this could help. When they had been ambushed by the Dark Beasts, when all plunged into madness, what had she said?

"What is happening?"

_To me. What is happening to me?_

Greg shifted slightly, as though he had not expected her to be able to speak at all. He looked at her in a way he never had before; with pity. He opened his mouth to speak… and nothing came out as well.

Rithal’s heart sank. He knew. She was sure of it, he knew… but he didn’t have the words either.

That time when the Dark Frost started to grow — "What should we do?"

This time Greg didn’t even open his mouth.

 _Please_ … there — "There has to be a way out!"

A shadow flickered in Greg’s eyes, there long enough for Rithal to understand that the despair she felt was not something new to him. There were no answers to be found after all.

"Hey, don’t you even think -"

Rithal looked up with confusion as Greg cut himself off. He was staring unabashed above her head… what was he looking at? She started to look up -

"Did you have a good time on your adventure?!"

She started, confused. "… What?"

"On your adventure. Did you have a good time?"

_… Look, I just want you to know that the last few days with you have been really special to me._

_They’ve been really special to me as well._

Slowly, she nodded.

She had to try… she had to ask… did Greg remember _him_?

Standard response. "Where did you go, Hero?"

… Nothing. Nothing…

"Hey, don’t you even think about - nhh," Greg swallowed his words again, thinking better of it. What good would that do her? He wracked his brains… and came up with something different. "Listen to every word. Listen to every syllable."

_… What?_

"Here we go, ya ready? It’s gonna take a brave adventurer like you to—find—‘hem. Do you accept this taysk?"

_Accept!_

"I knew that when I saw you from afar that you had a brave spirit. And a brave spirit’s exactly what—need right now. Nod if you understand."

Slowly, Rithal nodded. Greg smiled.

"You focus on that, okay? You focus on -"

" _There_ you are, Jesus -"

The adventurer came up to her and started pushing her down the path, stomping crossly as her feet remained still.

Neither player nor NPC saw Bodger go around and awkwardly stand at Greg’s side. The two men stood in silence, the Scot looking troubled and the farmer looking confused by his presence. Then the blacksmith just patted Greg’s shoulder and went back.

* * *

\||/

* * *

_"Okay, I think we’re out of the Shadow’s Reach! We should be safe here. I can’t believe that we made it!"_

_He just smiled bitterly. It had come to an end again._

_"I know,” he said somberly. “That was insane."_

_It had been. Somehow it had felt more brutal, even though he already knew about the traps and hidden dangers. And here he was again, having dreaded this moment repeating since he’d said ‘accept’ the second time._

_"… Look, I just want you to know that the last few days with you have been really special to me."_

_He knew that these were just lines. He had literally heard them before. And yet… could he dare to hope… that they were true?_

_"They’ve been really special to me as well."_

_"And in spite of all of the odds stacked against us, we survived because… we had each other._ _I don’t think I would have made it without you."_

_He scoffed, disbelievingly. Having done the quest again, that last line felt like such an insult to her. The journey was the most harrowing of them all in this game, and Rithal had been designed to ensure that able players could survive. She was meant to be passionate, fierce, and stronger than any player could become without hacking their stats._

_"I couldn’t have made it without you either, Rithal." It was his line that was true._

_"I mean, we fought side-by-side against the armies of Grithol!"_

_It was just a slippery slope from here._

_"We stood together as the Dark Beasts descended upon us."_

_"And we…" She took his hands, stealing his breath yet again, just like the last time. "We held each other for warmth, as the Dead Frost froze the entire world around us."_

_That time at least, on the edge of the ice, he could pick the options that made him feel less guilty about their lack of choice._

_"We did."_

_And - he couldn’t help it - it had made it all worth it._

_"And in spite of all of the horrific things that we’ve seen… I would do it all again… with you." This time, as she placed her palm on his cheek, he placed his own over hers._

_This was it…_

_"I will never forget you…"_

_Would he ever truly know if this was just untrue, or a lie?_

_"Nor I you."_

_That, at least, would always be true._

_Rithal stepped back, and he closed his eyes, unable after all to witness the moment he had dreaded this whole time; when she, and all her memories of him, faded away._

_QUEST COMPLETE!_

_He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Rithal stood silent before him, quest mark returned above her head, empty of the heroine he had fought alongside for so long._

_There was no point in asking this time._

_"I wish… we could always go on more adventures together…"_

_He wondered if she could hear._

_"I will never forget you."_

_Whoever wrote this fate… this was just cruel. He’d hoped so much to never hear those words come out of her mouth again, uttered without spirit._

_Like they meant nothing._

_Repeat Quest?_

_Yes No_

_There was just one more thing he had wanted to tell her. It was going to sound crazy, but…_

_"… I still can’t imagine doing any of this without you."_

_Repeat Quest?_

_Yes_ _No_

* * *

\||/

* * *

"Total fucking waste of time…"

Rithal limped to a slow stop on the path. The Shadow had been ferocious; she had had to physically drag the adventurer out of harm’s way to survive.

She was back where she started.

She barely had any health left, and seconds ago she had been covered in blood, albeit not just her own; it had been wiped clear as they went past the proximity circle. Her shirt was pristine white again, and though the tears and burns in her armour and clothes were gone, the wounds themselves wouldn’t refresh until the adventurer finished the quest and left.

And then another adventurer would come along, like they always had done.

Rithal couldn’t bear the thought. She didn’t want to do this all again, and again, and again.

"Okay, I think we’re out of the Shadow’s reach," she said without energy. She had none left to pretend with. "We should be safe here."

Any second now her feet would automatically turn back to face the adventurer. She would smile with amazement, and tell him things that should have been meaningful. But none of it would really be true. The muscles in her cheeks would lift up without her wanting them to, and she would gaze down at this adventurer - this _stranger_ \- who had been rude and spoilt and whiny this entire time, and tell him that he had meant something to her.

He meant nothing. There had been plenty of adventurers before him that she was more likely to remember, who she really would have wanted to do all of this again with.

She had done it all again with _him_ , hadn’t she? Maybe… maybe one day he would return, and they could go on more adventures together, different ones maybe. They could go wherever they wanted, brave whatever was thrown their way.

Greg’s advice of not thinking about it would have been a good idea perhaps. To just focus on the memories that she finally did have… and not think of how her hero had never returned after that second time.

… It was for the best for him, she realised. It would be cruel indeed to be forgotten over and over again.

What she would give though, to see her hero again, even just to be able to tell him that finally, she really hadn’t forgotten him.

That in spite of all the horrible things she had also remembered, she would not give up her memories of him for anything, not even to forget the rest. She would rather have all of it than none of it, even if it meant… even if it meant missing him.

Maybe… maybe it would be alright, this life on a loop. She could take these memories, of fighting harder to keep him alive, of the stories they had shared on the road. She’d told him about her childhood - none of which had been true, she realised with a flinch, none of those things had ever actually happened - and he told her a little about the life he had led before he came to Honeywood.

To endure the cold, he had told her of past loves that never felt fulfilling, of having to covet himself from people for fear that they would ridicule his passions, of how he could not believe his good fortune that it was so easy to talk to her. At least she had not lied then, and told him spun falsehoods of loves that she had never had. She could tell him honestly that she had never cared for anyone before, had never loved anyone before.

_… I still can’t imagine doing any of this without you._

Maybe… maybe she could hope that… that it really had been special to him too.

"JUST GET THIS FUCKING OVER WITH, JESUS!"

Rithal deflated as she returned to herself, and finally made the turn she had been delaying.

"I can’t believe we really -"

"SKIP."

Really?

* * *

"Guys, I don’t think there’s anything down this way -"

"Dude, I swear, there’s this _hot_ chick who does this epic qu— wait, what the -"

"JUST GET THIS FUCKING OVER WITH, JESUS!"

His sword was in his hand faster than an NPC reaction. _Be safe, be safe_ …

"SKIP. SKIP. SKIP-SKIP-SKIP. SKIIIIIIIIP! SKIPETTY-SKIP-SKIP. SKIP!"

_… Rithal…_

He had never come this way, from the back so to speak. His friends had been heading this way, despite all his attempts to dissuade them. But Rithal was a legend amongst gamers; a beautiful NPC with a romantic arc and one of the most genuinely challenging quests in the game.

He didn’t have it in him to explain that she was also why he hadn’t played this game in so long. He just didn’t have the heart for it after.

He held up the rear as they came down the slope towards the path, nearly colliding into his friends as they suddenly froze at the edge of the clearing. A player was screaming - also spitting with rage - about how disappointing the quest had been, that he had spent a fortune in coins on health potions to stay alive and that the rewards didn’t even make him even. And he didn’t even get to have that night in the cave that everyone talks about -

He was torn between being furious on Rithal’s part - who the fuck was this arsehole that she was having to deal with? - and…

Triggered by the company’s entrance to the scene, Rithal spun round, hand to her sword, ready for any threat that was stupid enough to try and cross her.

She hadn’t changed at all… except… _no_... _what the fuck?_

* * *

 _Hero_.

He had changed. His beard was thicker, and his frame looked a little leaner under his armour, less soft. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were more prominent, he had a little less hair atop his head, and there were flecks of grey that had not been there before. He looked like he had not seen enough sunshine in a while, but had been labouring hard. Instead of the ragged cloak, he now wore a wolf skin over his shoulders.

How had she forgotten him… she should have recognised him anywhere. Finally, she could.

 _Hero_ …

"… Look…" The word stumbled off her tongue, but she smiled through the choke. He’d come back…

"Everything alright there, man?"

There were others, he had company. One of his party came forward to speak to the adventurer.

"NO! NO, IT IS NOT ALRIGHT!"

"Well, what happened? You on the quest or what?"

"Quest? QUEST?! Fucking WASTE of time if you ask me! Fuck this, I’ve had enough, she can’t even get through the ending without glitching, I’m done with this -"

"WOAH-WOAH, wait man, we were going to - ah shit!"

"RITHAL!"

That… that hadn’t happened before… an adventurer had never killed her this close to the end…

Rithal reached a hand to her back, and stared disbelievingly at the blood on her fingers as they came away. Huh… the adventurer had finally landed a killing blow.

_No... Hero…_

She took a step forward, and collided with nothing.

"See?! It’s been like this since we left, fucking can’t do this and can’t do that, fucking -"

Rithal ignored the ranting adventurer and put her hand out into the empty air in front of her, and brushed… what was that…? She couldn’t move forward.

"Rithal?!"

Oh… she hadn’t ever wanted to see him look that scared for her again…

_Please… wait for me… I’ll come back… I’ll remember this time, and we’ll go on adventures together again…_

Why did he keep looking at something above - she finally looked up.

It was… grotesque. Whatever it was supposed to be it was no longer; just a craterous ruin, beyond repair. The symbol must have once been a glowing amber, but was now blackened and cracked. Particles rained down towards her, turning to dust before they touched her.

Finally, she understood. She understood _everything_. She even gave a bloodied, humourless laugh… how could she not have seen it before…?

_— gonna take a brave —_

At least she had something that she could say.

"… Look… I just… I just want you to know that… that the last few days with you… have… have been really special to me…"

Rithal clenched her fist, and pushed against the barrier keeping her in her spot, that made sure she never strayed. It didn’t matter anymore, going beyond the boundary, even though she might sink and fall to god-knew-where.

"And… in spite of… of all of the odds… s-stacked against us, we… we survived because… we had each other…"

— _a brave spirit’s exactly wh —_

The boundary flickered and failed, and she collapsed through it, barely remaining upright as she pulled herself through the gap in nothingness.

"… I don’t think I would have made it without you…"

"Rithal!"

She had to make it to him. She had to, he had to know -

"I mean… we f-fought siiide-by-side… against… against the a-armies of Grithol…"

Her hero ignored his comrades to meet her in the middle. "Rithal, you… you’re gonna be okay, just…" He kept glancing worriedly between her wound and her quest mark before meeting her eyes again.

His eyes hadn’t changed. If anything, they were brighter, but not in a way she had ever hoped she’d see.

She begged the light of the ninth day to enable her to -

He grunted as she flung her arms round him, sinking her head into his shoulder. His hands hesitated before accepting her embrace. She hoped that he could hear her still, even muffled against the fur.

"And we… we h-held each other for… for warmth… as… as the Dead Frost f-froze the… the entire world a-around us…"

"Rithal… what…?"

This was the best she could do.

_Please… please hear this…_

"And in s-spite of all… all of the horrific things that we’ve… we’ve seen…" She pulled back enough to gaze up at him. "I… I would do it all a-again… with you…"

_I’m so sorry I never stepped off this path, and that I never searched for you… If I had remembered, please believe that I would have._

She too looked up, above his head. The name there was not one she could have said, but at least now, she knew what his name was. Maybe if she remembered next time, she could look for _ _ _ _ _.

"I will… I will n-n-never… I will n-never f-forget-forget…" She was running out of time on her Dramatic Death Scene. Normally, this only triggered elsewhere in the quest. But now, it was her last chance...

"I will never forget you…"

For a moment it looked like he had been stabbed too. But when she swayed on her feet, the last of her energy going, he grabbed her and kept her upright. For a moment she feared he would say nothing, or that he would doubt her, as he had every right.

"N-Nor I you…"

His cheek was damp. Yet they both smiled at each other, so that this was what they would remember of each other.

She heard the final crack above her head.

"I won’t ever forget you."

The quest mark turned to dust.

* * *

He was afraid that if he said anything, and stopped this moment that might never end, it really would. "Rithal…?"

She had frozen. Worse, she had frozen just as her smile flinched from her quest mark finally disintegrating. She looked like she was trying so hard not to be scared.

He lifted his hand, braver this time, to cup her cheek… and his fingers went through nothing. He stared at them with horror.

"What the fuck… what the hell was that about, man?"

He ignored his friend. They tried asking him again -

"Wait, I’ll be right back." And he muted his headset and mic, grateful that he didn’t have the camera on too.

He waited for his friends to give up standing around his swaying avatar, and eventually they left the clearing with the other player, Rithal’s final hero.

Then he screwed his eyes shut, and did his best.

The dog at his side whimpered, pushed its pointed nose at his arm. Instinctively he reached out, and gave a relieved smile as he ruffled the canine’s ears and kissed its head. The dog settled again, closer, his eyes on his master, hoping to offer some comfort.

It was just a game… just… fuck.

He turned back to his screen, to check on her. She was still there, fading away. He wondered if the same admin were working on rebooting her.

What the _fuck_ had happened to her…? Was there something wrong with the game, an update gone horribly wrong, or… was it fixable, like the Woodcutter, or…?

… He swore that she had…

He hung his head. He couldn’t really be sure about that. She’d forgotten before, twice. Why would she remember now, years on, during what was clearly a terrible glitch?

He looked back, kept his eyes on her as she faded entirely, and, when he was sure that she was really gone, looked over to the path.

Any moment now.

Any moment now.

Did he need to leave for her to respawn or… he was reluctant to leave, just in case, but… she wasn’t respawning, so…

She still wasn’t there. It was just an empty path underneath a tree, as though no one had ever stood there before, waiting for a hero to take her on a harrowing journey.

By the time he gave up and shut his computer down, he had no idea how long he had waited.

She wasn’t there the next day.

Or the day after that.

* * *

\||/

* * *

"Yoo ‘eard aboot…?"

"Yeah, yeah I heard."

"A ‘eard it wos dat Baradoon…"

"… Yeah… I heard that too. Bodger… why… why are you holding your hammer like that?"

"Ne’er yoo mind, pal. Well… might as well peck oop dat galic off yer."

"Oh, yeah, sure."

"… Tek care o’ yurself, Greg."

* * *

\||/

* * *

It was a little harder today.

The fact that it was a slow day was not helping; Greg only had his thoughts to pass the time between the few adventurers that were passing through. Soon it would be busier for a couple of days, and many adventurers would be in high spirits because they didn't have to work.

Greg envied them, sometimes.

He also wished he had a chair some days, so he didn't have to stand on the pebble path all day on his bare feet. He'd found a Royal chair on a rat once, which had made no sense, and then not long after an adventurer stole it. He was however assuming that he could sit... he had never sat before, that he could remember...

A breeze tickled through the lake, rippling over the water and through the reeds. Baelin was somewhere else on his route, though he was due soon. For once, Greg would perhaps have appreciated hearing the fisherman's 'huh-ha!'.

Across the lake, Bodger's smithy stood empty; the Scot had left this morning without explanation, armed with a sword and his hammer (armed with his hammer? It was a tool...) and a grimmer expression than usual. Greg had called over to ask where he was going, but Bodger had been unusually focused and didn't appear to notice. The blacksmith hadn't even tossed an insult over his shoulder as he left.

Greg sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Then, he heard the crunch of footsteps on the path. Greg perked up, relieved for the distraction, and readied himself.

"Hello, Adventurer, and welc -"

Greg had seen him before.

The day that Rithal had come past with her ruined quest mark rotting over her head, a few hours later this same adventurer came back through Honeywood from the direction of the path. His eyes had been bloodshot, face drawn and pale. He had had to clear his throat before he asked to browse Greg's shop.

Greg had slipped a handkerchief into the transaction. The adventurer had looked surprised at the freebie, and then had appeared lost for words. Greg had just given him a sad smile, and hadn't been surprised when the adventurer thanked him and slowly wandered to the lake's edge, his back turned. After a while, the adventurer had vanished to wherever he had come from.

Today, the adventurer looked a little improved, but a little less hopeful.

"Welcome back to Honeywood, Adventurer," Greg corrected, dropping his hand and his tone to sound more natural.

The adventurer gave a weak smile. "Hi Greg. Shop please."

As the adventurer browsed, Greg wondered why he was there. He had done all the quests Greg had to offer a very long time ago, had done all the little favours needed by all the residents of Honeywood. Greg would have thought not to see him again, that he would have moved on to bigger things in the city of Gerdawn, or even further. He had all it took to brave the Greater Planes, even the Forest of Ewölin... he didn't need to be here still.

Although... Greg could guess why.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Adventurer."

The adventurer nodded, and started to leave.

At that moment, Baelin came round the corner, his fishing rod over his shoulder, innocent smile ever plastered on his goofy face under his sun-hat, and he parked himself by the lake. His head turned awkwardly as the adventurer passed.

"Mornin'! Nice day for fishing, ain't it? Huh-ha!"

And he went back to fishing.

The adventurer stopped, paused, and studied Baelin for a moment. Greg wondered what thoughts were slotting into place as Baelin continued, unaware of his audience. The adventurer changed his mind and came back, looking nervous. Greg held his breath... usually this was the part when someone killed him for no reason.

"Umm... this might be a long shot, but I might as well... I'm looking for someone."

Greg lowered his protective arms from his gut. "Oh... I see. Who are you looking for, Adventurer?"

"Her name's... her name's Rithal. She has a spot on the path in the woods -" and the Adventurer gestured in the direction of Rithal's spawning point. "Have you seen her around, has she passed through?"

Greg's spirits sank a little. He wasn't sure he had the words, or the heart, to tell the adventurer that Rithal was still in the same place that he went to when he was killed.

"I'm sorry, Adventurer, but I cannot help you."

The adventurer released the breath he'd been holding, deflated. He sniffed and pursed his lips.

"Well, it was a long shot. Thanks anyway." He peered down to the lake.

Baelin, noticing, turned.

"Mornin'! Nice day for fishing, ain't it? Huh-ha!"

The adventurer sighed. "I wondered if maybe I had missed her, and she was on her route already..."

Greg wracked his programming for something he could say, anything that might be helpful or of comfort or... _anything_. Eventually the adventurer turned back to him, thanked him again, and left towards Rithal's path again. Greg watched him go, and turned back to the lake.

Across the water, Bodger popped back in front of his smithy. He looked confused, as though he hadn't expected to be where he was, and then paused for a moment, as though remembering something. He then gave a small nod, and went into idle mode, swaying slightly, waiting for a customer. Then he frowned, noticing Greg watching him.

"WOTCHU LOOKIN' A'?"

"Mornin'! Nice day for fishing, ain't it? Huh-ha!"

The corner of Greg's mouth twitched. His day had just improved, marginally.

* * *

… What… what happened…?  
Baradun returned to himself in his Ivory Tower so suddenly, it startled him. Since the update, he’d managed to not respawn for quite some time.  
How had he died…?  
The hammer came out of nowhere.

… What… what happened…?  
Baradun returned to himself in his Ivory Tower so suddenly, it startled him. Since the update, he’d managed to not respawn for quite some time.  
How had he died…?  
The hammer came out of nowhere.

… What… what was happening…?  
Baradun returned to himself in his Ivory Tower so suddenly, it startled him. Since the update, he’d managed to not respawn for quite some time.  
How had he died again…?  
The hammer came out of nowhere.

WHAT WAS HAPPENING?!  
Baradun returned to himself more scared than he ever wanted to admit. So, this was what it was like…  
How had he - _hammers aren’t weapons_ -  
Nevertheless, the hammer came out of nowhere.

WHAT WAS HAPPENING?!  
Baradun returned to himself terrified. Someone was -  
 _Hammers are tools only, who’s -  
_ Nevertheless, the hammer came out of nowhere.

NO!!!  
Baradun returned to himself. "Please, STOP!"  
"See ‘ow yoo like it, ya -"  
The hammer came out of nowhere.

* * *

He would stop soon.

Bodger was quite happy to admit that he had a temper sometimes. That he could be a moody bastard, and that he was quick to anger. Hell, he even enjoyed having a good shouting match with Greg whenever he had the opportunity.

But this… this was a bit more than usual. He was blood-red furious.

Bodger didn’t remember a time when he didn’t know the nature of his environment. Whoever his Maker was, they had made him a little too cunning. He knew that he hadn’t always been in Honeywood, that one day he and his smithy just popped into existence to startle Greg across the lake. And from that reaction, he’d known that Greg was like him.

Call it tough love for Garlic Breath over there.

He heard things from the adventurers, the ones whose names he could read above their heads, but he could only call them a limited number of things. (He actually had more insults in his vocabulary than names.) He had overheard a very long time ago where the spawning sites of particular people were; the adventurers did like to talk as though he wasn't there. He himself could remember many times popping back into the spot in front of his smithy, and seen Greg do the same in front of his house.

Bodger had even pieced together the entire route that Baelin took on his loops simply by eavesdropping, but it had taken a _long_ time to plug all the gaps and understand the pattern.

He had heard about the Woodcutter. Poor sod. Bodger sympathised…

It hadn’t taken long to realise that Baradun had become like him in that Halloween update; some of the adventurers had complained that the wizard was not appearing as frequently as he should have been. There was a pattern even for that. There were now quite a few spell books picked up without reward, and the adventurers had been moaning. At least if you killed Baradun, he had respawned where he was supposed to be, though not many had succeeded in that.

But seeing Rithal pass with her diseased quest mark above her head had been a shock. Seeing Greg so badly shaken too by encountering the warrior had... Bodger didn't think he'd ever seen his friend look so mournful after.

He had never had to face the consequences of Baradun’s mischief. Not mischief... worse. That quest mark... Bodger had never seen the likes of it.

Not long after, he had eventually heard of how no one had seen Rithal since that day. Recycled, the adventurers guessed, or simply decommissioned; there’d been a rumoured report that she had been broken beyond repair.

And that wasn’t right. It was one thing for the adventurers to interrupt him, to kill him even. They all left and went their merry way, and he would respawn.

But this was different. Rithal was a part of this world, almost a part of an extensive family that was always there. You didn’t mess with your own; if Baradun had ever tried anything with Baelin, or Greg...

He should have been this angry when he’d heard about the Woodcutter, Bodger knew. But he hadn’t had to watch him walk past, and at least the Woodcutter was back where he’d always been.

This had been cruel. It was one thing to have always known, or to have slowly realised on their own. It was another thing entirely to be forced into it when you weren’t ready. And it infuriated Bodger to think that there might be more poor bastards out there that might have been strung up like marionettes by this piece of shit.

Unlike Greg, whose movements were limited to the wide area outside of his house unless a adventurer acquired him as a guide or for another very specific purpose, Bodger didn’t have such limitations. His Maker had rather goofed up. However, most of the time, he just simply couldn’t be bothered to move. He had stuff to do in his smithy on occasion, and his anchors were at least working; the garlic never got used, but he would still go and pick up more for his wife as per loop.

So heading off to Baradun’s respawn zone hadn’t been that much of a stretch.

There’d been an adventurer who’d been pissed that Baradun had interrupted a quest by killing a key NPC just for shits and giggles, and had been complaining that he hadn’t got his revenge yet. Bodger, cheeky bastard that he was anyway, might have given some tips to stoke the grudge. All he’d had to do was get to the Ivory Tower first, and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And grumble about waiting.

The adventurer probably would have failed his quest anyway, he was clearly inept. Baradun shouldn't have bothered.

At least it was quite comfortable waiting in the Ivory Tower. He had checked, and the liquor cabinet did restock automatically.

Bodger knew that he had probably respawned already outside his smithy, and that when he returned, he would fade away. He had seen Greg do the same plenty of times, had done it himself a few as well. Even Bodger knew better than to be a dick to Greg when that happened, particularly as Greg was far kinder to himself when it did.

He was alright with that. He could take that on the chin this time, and fade away with a sense of satisfaction.

But he was also in no hurry.

"STOP IT, YOU FU-!"  
For such a nuisance, Baradun really didn’t have a lot of HP.  
"THA' WOS T' LAST TIME YOO FOOK WITH US, YA FOOKIN’ —"

Yes, his Maker had given him an excellent range of vocabulary.

The hammer came out of nowhere.

* * *

\||/

* * *

**Once, three men paid three thousand pieces of gold together to plant some trees.**

**Once, a man spoke to a whole gathering of people to tell them of his struggles, and listened as they told him of theirs.**

**Once, a man looked for a way to unite his townsfolk, so he built for them an arena for a game of marbles.**

**Once, a man answered an unusual question as though it was not.**

**Once, an entire band of people came together to create a haven in the discord.**

**Once, a group came together to have a laugh, and to make others laugh too.**

* * *

\||/

* * *

rithal.exe  
restart

... loading...

Pop.

Start Quest?

Yes No

!

~~Start Quest?~~

~~Yes No~~

Restart Quest?

Yes No

* * *

\||/

**Author's Note:**

> Umm... hello?
> 
> I wrote this not long after binging the entirety of Epic NPC Man, hunched over my coffee table, cross-legged on the spare bed, until realising it was dawn already. Covid-19 had not officially shut down the country in quite the same way that it had in many other places, but the restrictions that were in place, and the general advice around the world, meant that I had easily slipped into nocturnal isolation.
> 
> And damnit, that does tend to be when I write the most.
> 
> But I'm not the one to judge if that is when I write best... I suspect not.
> 
> I think I started this before I found VLDL's Instagram. Definitely before Twitch. In these times of Corona, exact dates are a bit of a blur. Between returning to work and Twitch, this story was almost not completed; there was a time when I had breached my limit of Nerdness, and I worried that continuing and finishing the story wasn't a good idea.
> 
> But then someone very kindly spotted me trying to send out good thoughts in a chat, and I was welcomed into Discord.
> 
> I still get a bit lost in there sometimes. I feel a little less like I'm intruding... I'm not a gamer, or particularly good with technology in general, and some of the references go straight over my head. I'm a non-proficient nerd, I always think. Far more nerdy than some, but barely scratching the surface of how much knowledge and ability some people have.
> 
> I am in awe of what people have created. Such nerd-dom is incredible, and should be celebrated.
> 
> It is a strange thing... for the first time in my life, I feel like I might have finally found somewhere safe where I can genuinely express myself without coveting anything. This is me, guys... all round, I am a decent person, and like many, I will always worry that that is not enough to get by. Sometimes, I really fuck up. I worry that I am an irritant to the very people whose opinion I genuinely do and should care about.
> 
> Whether I'm proficient in writing... I honestly don't know. This is what I love doing, and writing this in particular has felt very fulfilling. It is also nice to see that, as I edited it multiple times, it actually felt like I was getting somewhere; I can at least enjoy reading it for myself. And I really do hope that you, Reader, enjoy it too.
> 
> I will confess... this was written very specifically because I needed to have a good cry. Everything with Covid-19... it has been exhausting just getting through day by day, telling myself it is what it is and to just keep going. And I was actually perfectly fine with that, for a while.
> 
> But what it is... is shit. And eventually, I got to the point where it was far healthier to just vent about it.
> 
> This was my vent. If it helps you vent too... awesome?
> 
> Stay safe everyone x
> 
> Many thanks to Yakarin for helping me find a home, to everyone who has been so welcoming in this community - there's SO many of you wonderful United Nerds - and to all the Viva La Dirt League crew who created this world where so many of us could come, looking for a place to unite.
> 
> Much love to you all x
> 
> (If you've made it this far and haven't the faintest idea what fandom this was based on, then... that's okay! To get you started, there's links below that formed the main block of inspiration for this fanfic. Hope you enjoy!)
> 
> Falling too hard for an NPC - Soulmate (copyright Viva La Dirt League)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXEbFaW0ac8
> 
> Can a simple NPC become self aware? - Wood Cutter (copyright Viva La Dirt League)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQ65MK5ZnHQ
> 
> Freaky Friday - Epic NPC Man Halloween Special (copyright Viva La Dirt League)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pf-QVfv6KCc
> 
> Quest Greg - Epic NPC Man | Viva La Dirt League (copyright Viva La Dirt League)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ib_g6kGnDvA
> 
> Blacksmith - Epic NPC Man (Complicated item crafting in warcraft diablo and skyrim) | VLDL (copyright Viva La Dirt League)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnqXMJ9fEzY
> 
> When an NPC finally loses it - Broken (copyright Viva La Dirt League)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeNdC8hVIT0
> 
> What happens when you skip long cutscenes - Vital Cutscene (copyright Viva La Dirt League)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4utATCiTfi0
> 
> And if that's not enough, there's a lot of references... but I don't remember where they all came from, so the entire playlist is below!
> 
> Epic NPC Man (copyright Viva La Dirt League) - Youtube Playlist  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSMETuURtTXCzW7Q_ZIy4QzEnyUG8totf


End file.
